Yes No Maybe Elsewhere Soon
by dark pookha
Summary: A torn letter blows whither the wind wills. All characters belong to Patrick Rothfuss as does the University. The opening lines are a paraphrasing of the opening lines of 'The Name of the Wind' and 'The Wise Man's Fear,' and the part of a wise man fearing the night with no moon is also a paraphrasing of a quote from 'The Wise Man's Fear.'


It was night again. The University lay in shadows, and they were shadows of three parts.

The first and largest shadow oozed slowly across the University, as the moon made her way through the dome of the sky. It blanketed over a man, enveloped in cloak that was the second shadow. The third lurked in his heart, a shadow of the emotions that roiled inside him.

The wind swirled below him in a courtyard, leaves blowing to and fro, now in the light of the pale sliver of moon, now in shadow. A few scraps of paper blew with them, and a red ribbon, forgotten from a woman's hair. He raised his hand, spoke a word, and the wind ceased. It stopped suddenly, and the leaves, papers and scrap of ribbon all floated slowly to the ground.

He reached into his cloak and pulled a piece of paper covered with close-spaced handwriting. A small well-hidden glow shined forth from his hand, illuminating only the paper and a sliver of his pale face. He read the letter and started to toss it into the courtyard, then pulled it back. He did this three times before finally seeming to decide. The glow went out and a soft tearing sound could be heard. He stood and flung the pieces of the letter into the silent shadow of the courtyard. As he turned to leave, the wind returned. It came slowly at first, unsure if it was still welcome here, and then, meeting no resistance, it blew. The leaves began their slow swirl around the courtyard again. The red ribbon blew over a rooftop and was never seen again. The scraps of the letter didn't mix with the other papers, but instead one piece of it blew directly out each of the five roads leading from the courtyard.

As he left, he didn't look back.

* * *

A small pattering came from the window and the dark haired woman awakened instantly. It wasn't rain or sleet, but a small, ripped piece of paper caught in the jamb that fluttered and whispered in the wind. She slid slowly out of bed, and the gentle snores of the sandy-haired man next to her fluttered only once. When she touched it, the scrap of paper fell into her hand. She uncovered a small sympathy lamp and looked at the paper. It was a signature, but nothing else: "Kvothe." She opened her desk and put the scrap into a book on Alchemy. Before she closed the book, she ran her fingers over the writing, feeling its slightly raised surface and color filled her cheeks. She looked from it to the man in her bed, but really, she'd already made her choice. She closed the book and returned to bed, awakening the man with a soft kiss. He returned her kiss sleepily, then his eyes opened and she pushed him back onto the bed. Shadows moved around them in the sympathy light as they loved.

* * *

The pool of water reflected the nearly full moon and she watched him in it. Her pale smooth face reflected in the pool next to the moon, making a second moon, waxing slightly as a wisp of her hair covered her face. She watched him when she could, and a night like this when the moon shone mostly here and not there was ideal. She saw his letter and his questions. She saw the first two shadows of the three parts and saw through them into his heart. A smaller, inkier shadow lurked there, not just his uncertainty, but a stain, a touch of something that all feared, like a night with no moon. She shivered even though she wasn't cold. The words on the letter leapt out at her as she scryed over his shoulder. "Sing a song that's true and you can banish the darkness." She wished he believed his own words, and would go to him and love him if she could, but her place was here. She can't change who she is and wouldn't if she could.

* * *

The small, ripped piece of paper blew through the Underthing, through and down, around and around, twisting and turning. It landed in the tangled, blonde tresses of a sleeping girl. No, a young woman. She stirred in her sleep and exposed it to the pale light she kept in a jar. "... and your light is what I would have to chase away the darkness," it read. Her hand moved to the scrap and she pulled it down without opening her eyes. She held it to her nose and smelled it, then put it to her ear.

"Moonlight, heart-light, and soul-light, but also a tinge of shadow hidden," she whispered in her sleep. She clutched the paper as she returned to sleep, and when she awakened in the morning, she put it on a shelf next to a seemingly-empty bottle that had the captured light of the moon in it to keep the scrap company and to keep the shadow in it hidden away.

* * *

She left as the moon made its way across the sky, following the waxing of it, never straying far from the full moon if she could help it. It shone on her pale skin as she made her way down the dusty road. Her hair was a dark shadow, but illuminated; a puzzle just like she was. She sang softly to herself as she walked. She thought of the man who taught her the song she was singing and laughed, remembering the look on his face the last time she saw him. Surprised, astonished at what he had said.

"Love me," he had said. Trying to trap her with love. He couldn't see that she loved him like she could, with the heart she could give. But, he didn't seem to understand that she could never love him like he wanted. She could never just be his, she belonged to all and to none but herself.

Of all the men, he came the closest since...him, the one of whom she doesn't even like to think. She shook her head; stolen away once was enough. She thought he'd loved her, but he wanted to possess her instead, and that could never happen again.

She rounded a corner on the road and a torn scrap of paper floated down in front of her; first bright in the moonlight then dark as it fluttered and twinkled like a fallen, hardened ray of the moon. She made a grab at it and it spun away, but she caught it on the second try. In the bright light of the moon, she could make it out; it was from him.

"...I had no right. I do love you, but I shouldn't have demanded it of you, too. What we have..."

There was a blot there where it had been smudged by water. She tried to catch it in the moonlight by turning the paper to and fro, but it was too badly damaged. She continued reading.

"...and it wouldn't be right to trap you, or try to steal you away like Iax did to the Moon..."

She gasped and looked around for more of the letter, but didn't find more. Fear came into her face and she knelt and tore the scrap to even smaller shreds. She put her foot on them to keep them from blowing away and dug in her pocket for her flint and steel. It only took one try for the scraps to catch. She made sure they were all burned to ash before she let them blow away into the wind.

She hurried away, wanting to stay in the light of the full moon even more than normal. She didn't feel herself today.

* * *

The last scrap of the letter had the longest journey. It blew away on the nearly moonless night, and as the Moon waned, it found its way to the border. When the moon transitioned it slipped through the cracks and blew through the forest. It avoided the grasp of the guarding Sithe even as they nimbly leapt and coursed after it. When it got to close to the tree, they abandoned their chase. No one approached it, and especially not on a moonless night. They retreated quickly and covered their ears, even though it would do no good if the thing there spoke.

The scrap landed on a branch of the tree and something unseen flipped it over. It was unreadable in the dark absence of light, but the thing seemed to know what it said. It laughed. Somewhere nearby one of the Sithe heard it and sat to wait for his brethren to come for him. They would be merciful and kill him quickly.

The thing in the tree laughed long and then said one word.

"Soon."


End file.
